Pax, the Canine Cupid

6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

It took a while for Wickham to realize that there was someone blocking his path. He was not yet recovered from the long night of rather too much of the local brew. Despite the assumed fun he had the previous evening, the lingering headache and memory loss made him almost regret his choices. So it took him a moment to realize that the woman with the rather large dog in front of him was one of the pretty Miss Bennets.

She was not the oldest and most beautiful of the sisters; she was the fiery one. He had always found the most enjoyment in pursuing fiery women like her. What was her name? Elinor, Eliza, it was something with an E, perhaps? Elizabeth! That was it. He looked at the sky before approaching her. Though pressed for time, Wickham understood the value of laying solid groundwork when it came to women who thought they were intelligent.

Once he had walked a few feet away from her, he stopped and gave one of his most gallant, practiced bows. He had long known it was his manners that opened doors and allowed him liberties with the ladies. He smiled at her despite the look her dog was giving him and said, “What a pleasure to see you, Miss Elizabeth. How do you fare this fine autumn morning?”

When Miss Elizabeth did not immediately respond to him with joy, Wickham studied her. She had one of her hands lost in the fur of her great, lanky beast. Her expression was not as receptive as he would have liked, but it was not something that would stop him from his game. It only made it more fun. Eventually, she smiled and said, “Good morning, Mr. Wickham. I did not expect to see you on my father’s lands this morning.”

Knowing it would not do for him to tell her the truth Wickham fell back on his old standard saying, “Oh well, as someone cast aside by the one person who should have been my friend and my support, I have been forced to take up the occasional odd job to augment my funds as an officer in the militia.” There he was sure that her natural compassion would look right past why he was somewhere he should not be, to the fact that he had been poorly misused.

As he anticipated, Miss Elizabeth asked, “Who has treated you so poorly? You have always seemed jolly and proud of your position in the king’s militia. I would have never known that you were struggling for funds and support.”

“I am not certain you would much know him. Mr. Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire keeps to himself and is often cold and unyielding to those he sees as below him. Coincidentally, he is in the area. Have you met him?” Wickham was certain his old friend would not have presented himself at all well in the current company. He never did.

Miss Elizabeth nodded her head with a slight air of confusion. She said, “Yes, I have been having a rather hard time puzzling him out.”

Perfect! Wickham smiled at her expression. Now all he had to do was to slip her a little more of his sad story before he left. “He is a hard one to understand. Fitz and I grew up together, but our relationship turned sour sometime after his father also sent me to school with him. He did not like the fact that his father loved me, his godson, as well as he did. Things became worse as we continued to grow older. Our pursuits growing more and more different, he refused to even acknowledge me when he was out and about with the people who called him friend. Still, I never would have thought that he would end up treating me so poorly.” He let his story end in the middle, knowing it would make her want to know more. It was even mostly true. Their pursuits had diverged when they went to school and Darcy had eventually stopped acknowledging him. He was too much of a stuck-up prig to acknowledge such a wastrel. Being sure to keep his face looking hurt and somber, he tried taking a step closer so that she could see the way he could make his eyes water at the next part. Only his movement seemed to anger her dog. The moment he took a step, a menacing growl emanated from the dog’s deep chest, causing Wickham to freeze in his tracks.

Looking down at her dog in alarm, Miss Bennet scolded, “Pax, one would think you had reason to take offense at Mr. Wickham if you continue in such a manner.” Running her hands soothingly through his coat, Miss Elizabeth spoke to him in a tone too low for Wickham to pick up before she looked back at him. “I am not sure why Pax is acting so. He is normally friendly unless I am threatened in some way. Please, go on with your tale.” Miss Elizabeth nodded, her hands still moving in her dog’s coat.

Being sure not to make any threatening movements that might anger Miss Elizabeth’s monstrosity, Wickham said, “Things came to a head shortly after old Mr. Darcy’s death. I loved the man like a father, especially as he had looked after me so well once my father, his steward, had died. Mr. Darcy had promised that I would be well provided for, but when it came to fulfilling his father’s request, the current Mr. Darcy allowed his bitterness to keep him from acting honorably. Fitzwilliam Darcy found a loophole that allowed him to deny me the living that his father had promised me. It would have been an enjoyable life, seeing to the needs of the Kympton flock. Alas, it is no longer my destiny. I shift for myself and if I have any hope of providing for the family I wish to have one day, I must find ways to put extra aside little by little. It is not what my godfather wanted for me, but it is the lot his son has left me to.” When his speech was done, Wickham thought it had gone well despite the fact that he was uncertain Miss Elizabeth had seen the way his eyes watered.

Watching Miss Elizabeth, he took note that she had tilted her head, apparently lost in thought. He waited patiently for her to say something compassionate, as the ladies always did. Seeing his look, Miss Elizabeth smiled blandly. “I am glad you have found a means of supporting yourself in the militia, though you might consider the regulars if you want to help the nation and need more ready funds. I have heard that the pay is better.”

Wickham blinked. That was not the kind of compassionate expression he was looking for. Was she the kind of person who tried to look for the best in a situation? This was going to take more time and effort than he had originally thought. He was about to draw closer to her so that he could try to get the response that he wanted, but stopped when he heard another growl. It was the kind of growl that could be felt in the hairs on the back of his neck.

The dog looked at him with danger in its eyes and Wickham knew he would get nowhere with the angry animal at her side. He would just bide his time. She did not have the animal with her all the time. Given a little more time at the parties he was being invited to, he would slowly plant seeds of manipulation in her mind, poisoning her thoughts and swaying her towards his cause. She would be ripe to pluck soon enough and, in the meantime, he was sure that there were plenty of other women willing enough. Possibly even the youngest of the Bennet girls, she seemed empty headed enough.

Wickham gave her dog one last annoyed glance before saying, “Well I have duties to attend to back in camp so I must be going. I will see you another time, Miss Elizabeth.” He finished their meeting with another unnecessarily ornate bow, and giving her dog a wide berth, hurried on his way. As soon as he was out of sight, he increased his pace, dropping his casual stride for a more hurried jog. He was not quite certain what the consequences of being derelict were, but he did not want to find out.

Elizabeth turned her head and watched Mr. Wickham go. Pax did the same, moving around Elizabeth to stay between her and the man that she had thought was a harmless flirt. When he was finally out of sight, Elizabeth continued on her way, eager to get to the cottage of Widow Murphy. She had no desire to go all the way back to Longbourn with Mr. Wickham about. Elizabeth no longer trusted him, not with the way Pax had reacted to his presence.

Looking down at Pax, Elizabeth was overwhelmingly grateful that he had been with her and had made his displeasure known. She knew in her heart that he would protect her from the threat of Mr. Wickham, but she could not shake the feeling of wanting to reach the safety of other people. Elizabeth did not like the thought that kept popping into her mind that Mr. Wickham could easily circle back around through the woods and surprise her. She would be safe once she got to the cottage close by.

Mrs. Murphy lived with her grandchildren, and they saw to a small flock of sheep that provided some of Longbourn’s needed wool. She was a kind woman who, despite her gnarled hands, could spin and weave. She was teaching her one granddaughter to take up the valuable trade. Both of Mrs. Murphy’s grandsons, though sweet and kind, were rather large and could be intimidating if they chose to be. Perhaps she would ask one of them to escort her back to Longbourn?

Keeping her hand on Pax and growing confident that he would once again warn her of Mr. Wickham’s approach, Elizabeth dropped her gaze to her feet. She was now even more confused about Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy. When she had first come across Mr. Darcy, he had insulted her. Mr. Wickham, on the other hand, had flirted. In no time at all, she had decided that Mr. Darcy was uncivil and above himself; she saw no reason to try to like him. Mr. Wickham was easy to like and though he flirted more than she liked, she did not think he meant anything by it.

If Mr. Wickham had told her his tale of woe before Pax had reacted so badly to him, would she have believed him? She might have had she not seen with her own eyes just how much Pax liked Mr. Darcy. His actions, seeing to the aid she needed back at Netherfield, had shown him to be an honorable gentleman. So it was not only the sound of Pax's rarely used growl that had instantly made her wary. Both had caused her to regard Wickham's words with suspicion. Why would he share such a story with a practical stranger that could do nothing to help him? What was his intention?

Pax certainly did not think his intentions towards her were good and Elizabeth trusted her dog more than Mr. Wickham’s pretty words. It was obvious that he knew Mr. Darcy and he would not have lied about a connection that she could decipher so easily. So where was the lie?

“Every season you force yourself to attend society gatherings in the marriage mart, searching for an acceptable wife. Someone of high society with connections to the highest people in the land and a large dowry. And every season you are miserable. You know any of the women at those events that your family would be happy to introduce as Mrs. Darcy would not suit you.”

Slumping back into his chair, Darcy found it hard to speak the words he knew he must. His voice weary, he said, “You know my position has certain demands that come with it, Bingley. My family has certain expectations.” Darcy faltered as he spoke, why did saying that hurt so much? It was merely who he was. It was an intrinsic part of his life. Almost trying to convince himself, he said, “Besides, I must marry well, or it could affect Georgianna’s chances at a good marriage.”

Leaning forward, his eyes slightly narrowed, Bingley said, “Didn’t you just say that if my family loved me, they would want my happiness more than land or prominence?”

Somehow, Darcy felt as if he was about to have the rug jerked out from under his feet. Despite that feeling, he answered honestly. “Yes, I did.”

“How does that not hold true for you as well? If your family truly cared about your happiness, they would be delighted with any woman you presented that brought joy and love into your life.” Bingley maintained his eye contact boldly speaking to Darcy in a way that he had never done before. It left Darcy wondering if these were thoughts he had held for some time but had not felt equal to expressing them. “As for Georgianna, I know you want her to be happy in marriage more than anything. Do you truly believe she would be happy in the kind of marriage you expect to have for yourself? Or would she be happy knowing you sacrificed your happiness? Have you ever considered the possibility that the men who would be deterred from marrying your sister based on your wife's identity are precisely the kind of men you wouldn't want her marrying, anyway? A man that superficial would not be her equal, nor would he really care who it was that he married only her money and pedigree.”

It took a moment before Darcy realized that his mouth hung open in shock. Where had this insightful Bingley been hiding? Instinctively, Darcy knew that he would have to analyze all that his friend had said at another time. There was simply too much in that one brief speech for him to unpack at that moment. Even without delving into all the feelings and doubts he had unleashed; Darcy had a feeling his life was about to change forever. Swallowing thickly, Darcy closed his mouth only to open it again and say, “Your insights have given me much to ponder, and I am grateful to you for shedding light on these crucial matters. I am left wondering about where all this is coming from. In all our years of friendship, I have never heard you speak so strongly to me about issues of the heart.”

“When I told you this morning that I wanted to become a better person, this is part of what I meant. For a long time, I have kept my concerns to myself because I did not want to make your life more complicated than it already was. Like I said, I have always gone for the path of least resistance. Taking up the reigns of Netherfield has forced me to realize that has not actually helped anyone. My sister was never happy despite getting her way in things and me allowing her to act as she wished only enforced her poor behavior and put a happy match that much farther away from her.”

Darcy thought he might like this more thoughtful Bingley, even more than the jovial one that acquiesced to everything. The desire to speak up overwhelmed Darcy, and he confessed, “I never truly grasped how much you concealed.” Wincing at the thought that he had not been the best of friends to not see how much Bingley was hiding, he continued, “For future reference, any time you feel the need to say something of the sort, please feel free to do so. It's probable that everything you've said is precisely what I needed to hear.”

Bingley’s typical grin flashed across his face as he said, “I am glad to hear it! I have no intention of reverting, though I might need you to remind me if you see me slipping back.” As he finished his thought, his smile slowly faded into a chagrined grin, revealing a glimpse of how conscious he was of his old behaviors.

Nodding, Darcy agreed with Bingley. “Yes, old habits can be hard to break.” Studying his friend, Darcy tried to direct their conversation back to its original direction. “Are you really wanting to give up on owning an estate?”

With his elbows propped on the desk, Bingley rested his chin on one of his palms, his voice filled with uncertainty as he said, “No, I do not think so. Though I am not as certain as I was before I learned how hard running an estate was. I have decided to spend an entire year working at Netherfield before settling on any permanent decisions.”

Nodding thoughtfully, Darcy said, “I think that is a solid plan. Any new endeavor will be hard as you learn the ropes. Who knows, you may grow to enjoy it. Besides, right now you are taking over two roles that you do not know. If you married a woman who knew what she was about, you would only to deal with half as much work.”

“You know, I am now wondering how much training Miss Bennet has in being mistress of an estate.” Bingley adopted a goofy grin, much like what he had on his face when Darcy had walked in.

“Yes, I can see the direction your mind is taking.” Darcy smiled at his friend in return. A thought struck Darcy out of the blue, causing him to ask, “Was there any particular reason you thought to bring up my search for a bride?”

Grin only widening, Bingley said, “Darcy, I have known you for years. Miss Elizabeth may not have known what you were about, but I saw the way your eyes followed her. I know she would be perfect for you, but I also know that you wouldn't act until you let go of your family's prejudiced beliefs.”

Darcy knew his bemused expression was highly entertaining to Bingley when he could not seem to hold back his chuckle. Rolling his eyes, Darcy sighed. Looking down at the desk and all the stacks of papers, Darcy saw an escape to his embarrassment. So he asked, “Do you want my help with the ledgers, or have you changed your mind in favor of visiting Longbourn to ask Miss Bennet how skilled she is at managing household accounts?”

“ Ha… Ha…” Bingley rolled his own eyes before saying, “Fine, spoilsport. Can you suggest a starting point for fixing the household ledgers?”

When Elizabeth knocked on her door, Jane let her in, knowing that her sister needed to talk. Elizabeth had not been herself at all that whole day and now that night had fallen, Jane had half expected her to show. Elizabeth crawled wordlessly up to the head of Jane’s bed, curling around one of her pillows. Jane stayed by the door, knowing that Pax would soon follow his mistress into the room. Sure enough, Pax silently padded into the room and Jane shut the door just as quietly. As soon as she turned around, Pax nuzzled her hand in greeting.

Scratching behind his ears, Jane said, “Hello there, Pax. Have you been a good boy today, taking care of my sister?” Jane smiled when he softly woofed in reply. He was a wonderful dog and had been sticking to her sister’s side like glue. Something had happened that morning. Most likely on her sister’s walk to check on some of the rarely seen tenants. Jane watched as Pax moved to lie in a rather large ball by the crackling fire.

Turning her attention back to her younger sister, Jane moved to her side and crawled up into the bed next to her. Elizabeth still had said nothing after several minutes, but Jane knew she could wait her sister out. While Elizabeth was hot and passionate, Jane was cool and patient. It was one of the reasons they had bonded so closely as sisters, besides being so close in age. They complemented each other, and despite their differences, they saw and understood each other.

Eventually Elizabeth sighed and said, “I saw Mr. Wickham on our property today. I was out near the Murphy cottage.”

Reaching out, Jane smoothed back her sister’s hair but still did not say anything. Jane stayed quiet because she knew that if that was all there was, her sister would not be so conflicted. So she waited.

“Pax did not trust him. He prevented me from going down the path before I even knew he was there. When he moved to draw closer to me, Pax growled at him. An actual growl, not like he does when he is playing.” Rubbing her face into the pillow, Elizabeth sighed and still Jane waited.

Her voice muffled by the pillow, Elizabeth said, “I thought he was a harmless flirt, but the moment I felt Pax’s hackles rise, I began to doubt him, doubt myself.”

With the root of the problem exposed, Jane felt confident in saying, “Do you feel more disturbed by the revelation that Mr. Wickham may be deceiving everyone or by the realization that you trusted him, and he is proving himself unworthy of your trust?”

“I feel so foolish.” Elizabeth rolled over onto her back, and after sighing, continued to speak. “Mr. Wickham told a story about how Mr. Darcy denied him a living out of spite. Jane, I think if it hadn't been for Pax, if the memories of my time at Netherfield hadn’t been so fresh in my mind, I would have believed him. I would not have seen any reason to doubt him. The way he spoke was so earnest and sincere, but with Pax’s warning, I could see the holes in his story and see that he was lying. My original instincts about the man were completely off the mark. What unsettled me the most was that his lies made me doubt not only him but also my own judgment.”

Nodding silently, Jane could see how that would throw her sister. She had always had a strong confidence in her ability to read others and in their small community of mostly honest people, Elizabeth was more than capable. It seemed, though, that the wider society they were experiencing might be concealing wolves in sheep’s clothing. “Neither of us has much experience with practiced liars. It is only to be expected that you would be uneasy finding one in our midst. I can attest to feeling a certain amount of pain when I realized Caroline Bingley was not who she presented herself to be.”

Sitting up, Elizabeth looked at Jane, her previous worries forgotten as she looked at her sister, exclaiming, “Oh, Jane, I am sorry you had to learn that about her. I know you hoped she might grow to be your friend.”

“You tried to warn me, I know. I just hoped that she would prove herself to be a better person beneath her prickly exterior.” Squeezing Elizabeth’s hand, Jane offered her a wan smile. It was just like Elizabeth to forget her own concerns if there was someone she felt the need to protect or comfort. “When she saw that I was wet and shivering but did not even invite me to sit by the fire to dry out and become warm, I knew she was not the person I hoped her to be.”

Elizabeth sighed and leaned into Jane. “Perhaps we just need to remember that sometimes, underneath someone's prickly exterior, there lurks a nasty interior. Or even worse, there can be an evil interior hidden behind a pleasant facade.”

Smiling, Jane leaned back into her sister. “Too true.” They had often spent their evenings together talking about the issues they faced in their small lives. They both understood that going to either of their parents with their problems was out of the question. The girls knew that their mother and father were both very selfish people at heart. Mr. Bennet would make light of any worry or confusion while Mrs. Bennet would somehow make it about herself and go into a fit of her nerves. So, Jane and Elizabeth depended on each other.

Eventually Jane interrupted the silence by asking, “What did you mean when you said your memories of Netherfield? While most of my memories of Netherfield are rather hazy, it seems that you have something about our time there that you have not told me of.”

“I spent most of my time caring for you, but I interacted with the Bingley’s and Mr. Darcy at meals and the like. For a time, all my interactions with Mr. Darcy reinforced my opinions about him. He was abrupt and cold even when we interacted, and it made me think my original judgment about him was correct.”

Tsking at her sister, Jane said, “Are you still holding one ill spoken comment against him? You know, I do not think he looked at all well that night. He would not be the first person to speak out of turn when feeling poorly.” Jane chided Elizabeth gently.

Huffing slightly, Elizabeth continued, “Yes, well, I did still feel put out, and I felt justified in being so miffed because his behavior never seemed to improve. But then something changed. It was while I was enjoying a short morning walk that I unexpectedly bumped into him, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was hiding from Miss Bingley.” The pair began to giggle at the comment and their memories of Miss Bingley’s so obvious pursuit of the unwilling gentleman. After a pause to catch her breath, Elizabeth said, “We had been talking when a sound in the woods alerted us both to something moving towards us quickly. Instantly he moved between me and the approaching thing.”

Jane knew that there was nothing more dangerous than a fox in the local woods. So that could only mean one thing. With a sigh, she said, “I have a feeling I know what was coming.”

“Yes, it was Pax come searching me out after my prolonged absence, but he did not know that. Mr. Darcy tried to protect me.” Elizabeth stopped talking and Jane turned her head to watch her sister. Observing Elizabeth’s confusion, Jane let her sister process her thoughts, simply waiting for her to continue. Soon enough, she said, “You know how I interact with Pax, especially if I have been away from him for any reason. In no time at all, I was on my knees petting him. Then it dawned on me what I must look like. There I was in the dirt, not acting like a lady at all. Immediately all I could think of was what he must think of me, but when I looked up at him, I saw that he did not hold me in contempt or anything of the sort. He acted like it was nothing at all and even said he would have done the same with his own dog.”

“I can see how several parts of that situation might confound you.”

“That isn’t even the oddest part. The odd part is that Pax likes him. I mean, really likes him. He went over to get pets and then put his paws on his shoulders and started licking his face!” Elizabeth looked over at Pax laying on the floor near the fire. As if sensing her attention, he thumped his tail without even opening his eyes.

“Was he frightened of Pax at all?” asked Jane, curious to hear how the quiet Mr. Darcy handled such a large dog showing his affection. Many people were afraid of the huge animal despite his normally gentle nature.

“While he was, I think, startled to have a dog be able to look him in the eye, he was not afraid. I believe he really likes dogs. Then, as we parted, he asked about you and us not having a maid helping us came up. Within hours, a maid was made available for our use. And now I do not know what to think of him at all. Is he the man that insulted me or the man who Pax absolutely loves? Is he the man who is cold and distant and at times argumentative, or the man who stood in front of me when he thought there was danger approaching? I really do not know what to think of him.”

Jane could not have kept the smile off her face if she tried. A brooding, handsome man had tried to protect her sister from an unknown threat and treated her with unexpected kindness. That same man had liked her dog, and Pax had surprisingly liked him as well. Then Mr. Darcy saw to Elizabeth’s comfort and care. There was no doubt in Jane’s mind that though he was very awkward about it, Mr. Darcy cared for her sister. Jane heartily approved.

She had always known that Elizabeth would be blindsided by love someday. Oh, Elizabeth had always promised to never marry without love, affection and respect, but Jane had always suspected that her sister never really thought she would find it.

Perhaps it had found her instead.